


Daughter of the Deputy

by Gia279



Series: PLOT TWIST [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Middle Aged Characters, Teenager Fic, Writer Stiles Stilinski, married, married with a kid, unexpected sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gia279/pseuds/Gia279
Summary: Or...The 5 times Eliza's dads scared off her potential suitors and the 1 time they didn't quite manage.





	Daughter of the Deputy

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! I never EVER expected to write a sequel to Son of the Sheriff but here we are, and I hope you like it! I had fun writing it! <3

Stiles had realized his daughter was an actual, full-blown _teenager_ the day she’d asked him to teach her to drive.

It had taken Derek…a bit longer.

 

**1**

It started the Thursday after winter break ended; Eli was just three weeks from turning seventeen and Stiles was having a mid-life crisis over that. He was fighting with the dishwasher, which had started making a weird noise two days ago, when the doorbell rang. “Hey, Eli, can you get that?” he called. He was currently elbows deep in dishwasher guts.

“What?” she shouted back.

“The door!”

“What?!”

He huffed and twisted his spine, leaning toward the dining room, and shouted, “Please get the door!”

She broke into laughter, much closer than he’d expected, proving she’d just been fucking with him.

It was a shame she’d gotten Stiles’s sense of humor; he had no one to blame but himself for this kind of thing.

Derek came in the backdoor and swore, nearly tripping over Stiles’s legs. 

“Sorry. How was work?” He grinned.

“You have a noddle in your hair.” Derek sighed and leaned down to pick it out. “Work was fine. Laura throws her weight around, as usual.” He started unbuckling his utility belt, then paused. “Where’s Eli?”

“Answering the door, someone was ringing the bell.” Stiles pulled a piece of metal out and frowned at it. It looked fairly important, but he had no idea where it’d come from.

“By _herself?_ ” He sounded scandalized and immediately stepped around Stiles, toward the other entrance of the kitchen.

“She’s seventeen, Der,” Stiles replied. He was beginning to think he had no idea how to fix a dishwasher, which was something he should’ve considered before taking it apart. He wondered if he had a manual somewhere around the house for this thing. 

“Da- _ad_ , seriously? You freaked her out at the end, coming over and looming in your uniform,” Eli complained. “Do you have to scare off people who actually want to talk to me? People who _aren’t_ my cousins or Gabby?” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Derek replied smugly. 

Stiles put his hand back in the dishwasher and yelped. “Damn it! Derek, I found your favorite paring knife!” He grumbled as he got to his feet, hurrying to the sink to avoid getting blood on the floor. The cut was small enough, on the top of his hand.

Eli and Derek were still bickering about whether Derek had scared off the visitor when they got into the kitchen. 

“Who was it?” he asked. He put his tongue between his teeth as he finessed the faucet on without getting blood anywhere but the sink.

“Clara Mahealani,” Eli bubbled. “She was asking for my chemistry notes.”

Stiles grinned back at her. “Is she the one you were telling me about—with the dimples?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. She perked up at the sight of his cut. “Is that blood?”

“What?” Derek barked. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing serious, there was a knife in the dishwasher.”

“I’ll get the first aid kit!” Eli announced, and ran from the room. 

Stiles leaned back from the sink to watch her go. Once she was out of earshot, his gaze snapped to Derek. “What’d you do?”

“What? Nothing! Here, rinse the blood off.”

Stiles let him clean his hand, staring suspiciously at the side of his head. His ears were flushing, which was a sure sign of guilt.

Eli returned with the first aid kit. “Let me do it, please. I need the practice.” She grinned and waved a bottle. “I got the peroxide.”

“Demon child,” he grumbled.

She laughed. 

 

**2**

 

“You really should call a repairperson,” Eli said. She was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, watching Stiles fight with the dishwasher.

“I’ve got it,” he insisted. “I just need time.”

“Like you had it when we were fixing the dryer?”

“Okay, smartass, maybe we’ll just switch to handwashing the dishes permanently.” 

She laughed, then perked up. “I think Dad’s home!” She jumped up.

“Gee, thanks. You never run to greet me!” he called.

“You’re always here!”

Stiles yanked a hunk of plastic out, then frowned at it. “I’m insulted!” 

The doorbell rang at the front door. Eli’s footsteps paused. “I’ve got it!” she called, and changed directions.

Stiles rolled his eyes skyward and shook his head. “Whatever.” He was surrounded by pieces of the dishwasher, though none of it looked like it belonged in anything simpler than a spaceship.

Derek came inside in full uniform. 

“Howdy, Deputy,” Stiles snickered. 

“There’s a boy on the porch,” he muttered, and stalked out of the other door.

“So? There was a girl on the porch like a week ago…” Stiles wiped his hands on his pants and stood. He looked speculatively toward the front of the house; he could hear Eli chattering at someone, who was replying in a low mumble. Suspicious, Stiles poked into the hall.

Derek was standing a few feet behind Eli’s shoulder, arms crossed and legs braced. The side of his face that Stiles could see was set in a foreboding scowl.

There was a blond teenager at the door, stuttering awkwardly about some literature notes.

Eli drooped. “Yeah, sure thing.” She sighed. 

Stiles crossed his arms, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Once the boy—who Stiles had recognized as Roman Lahey—left, Eli noticed Derek and jumped. “Jeeze, Dad!” She paused and looked him up and down. Her face fell. “Are you going back in?”

“Ah…”

Stiles smirked, wondering how he was getting out of this one without lying to her.

“Yeah. Just for a little while.”

He shook his head. 

She sighed. “Fine. You know Dad isn’t going to be happy.”

“He’ll live.” Derek ruffled her hair, which she’d recently cut short, leaving her face unframed. “See you later.” 

“I guess. Love you.”

He swept her up in a hug, which she returned, even though she looked irritated. “Love you too.” He kissed her cheek, then shuffled toward the kitchen. He wouldn’t meet Stiles’s eye. “I can use the overtime,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure.” Stiles watched him go with his arms crossed. Hmm. 

 

**3**

Suspicions fully aroused, Stiles was prepared for the next time it happened. He jumped into position every time the bell rang, even leaving his office mid-line to make sure he didn’t miss it.

He waited on the stairs, mostly out of sight, and watched. He was sure Derek was lurking somewhere.

“Hey, Celestine,” Eli chirped the second time it rang that Friday. “What’s up?” She was holding a binder full of neatly written and organized notes, a scene that looked vaguely familiar to Stiles, though he couldn’t figure out why.

“I was wondering…” Celestine trailed off.

Stiles froze, shifting closer to the wall, but he relaxed when he realized he hadn’t been spotted. He looked around and found Derek, in full uniform, arms crossed, near the hall off the living room.

“Um, I was wondering if—if I could use your—er, borrow your history notes. To study.” 

“Okay…” Eli replied slowly. “Sure. Here you go. See you-”

Celestine was already retreating at a fast clip.

“-later,” she finished. “Dad! Stop lurking!” she ordered, and went to the kitchen.

Derek slammed the front door with a smug air about him. 

Stiles straightened up and shouted, “What’re you doing?!” as sharply as he could.

Derek jumped about a foot off the floor. He spun around. “Nothing! Just closing the door!”

“You’ve been home two hours, why are you still in uniform?” Stiles descended the last few steps and crossed his arms. 

“Because—Laura’s making me work overtime. And you’ve been home all day, why’s the dishwasher still in four pieces?”

Stiles grimaced. “I’m lulling it into a false sense of security. Once it thinks it’s safe, I’ll strike.” 

“Sure.” He reached out and tugged on Stiles’s belt loop until he grudgingly shuffled closer. “I love you.”

He sighed and kissed him. “I love you, too. Even though I know what you’re doing.” He nipped his bottom lip and backed away, laughing. 

“Just for that, I’m calling a repairperson!” 

“You _wouldn’t!_ ”

Eli poked her head out of the kitchen. “Can we order pizza?”

“No!” – “Yes!” Stiles grinned at Derek. “Aw, come on, you want pizza, too.” He shrugged when he glared. “I just think pizza is the least we can do. Considering.” He flicked his gaze toward Eli and away. 

“In that case, _you_ should get double cheese, since you broke the dishwasher,” Eli said cheerfully. She went back into the kitchen and clattered around.

Stiles pointed at Derek. “Pizza tonight, something better tomorrow, and you leave her alone. That was my coworker’s kid, you know.”

“Who? You don’t _have_ coworkers.”

“Kira Yukimura, from the library.”

Derek shook his head. “You don’t even work there anymore.” He held his hands up. “Okay, okay, I’ll order the pizzas.”

“And leave the kids alone! Eli can handle it!” 

 

**4**

“Marina,” Eli said slowly, “we don’t have chemistry together. Remember?” She looked concerned. 

Stiles stepped more firmly on Derek’s foot, keeping him in the kitchen and out of sight. He glared at him.

Marina Boyd snapped her gum. “Oops, sorry. I meant history. Mr. Hawkins teaches the same stuff you guys go over, just like two weeks later.” She grinned. “Wanna study together?”

Eli flushed. “Uh—sure, so—where?” she squeaked.

“Here’s fine, if you want.” 

Stiles poked Derek’s lower back. Hard. “Leave them be,” he hissed. “Isn’t Boyd like your best friend? His daughter is so cute, she’s got Erica’s eyes.”

“And personality,” Derek said mournfully, managing to slip into the dining room.

Eli and Marina spread through books out at the dining table.

Stiles dragged Derek back to the kitchen, mouthing an apology at Eli. “You need to loosen up. She’s seventeen, not seven, and it’s not like they’re going out. They’re studying. In the dining room.” He bent to prod at some part of the dishwasher that seemed to be coming free with every passing hour. “I swear, you act like someone’s going to snatch her and run off…on our porch…” He turned and sighed. 

Derek was glaring into the dining room, over Eli’s head.

Marina lasted thirty minutes before muttering that she had to get home and fleeing.

Eli sighed, propping her chin on her hand. “She was pretty,” she said mournfully, in almost the exact same tone as Derek. “Am I scaring everyone off?”

Stiles crossed to her quickly, elbowing Derek in the ribs _hard_ as he passed. “No,” he said. “You’re not.” He glared over his shoulder at Derek, who at least looked a little guilty. “I’m sure they’re just busy.”

“They’re practically running from the house, Dad.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Ugh, whatever, I don’t want to date them anyway. They scare too easily.”

Stiles laughed and stroked her hair. “Good attitude, kid.”

 

**5**

Stiles recognized the next boy who showed up, too—Kieran Monroe, the child of one of Derek’s old basketball teammates. He asked for Eli’s notes while Stiles blocked Derek from getting to the door with his whole body. They were doing a sort of hostile two-step where Stiles was blocking him in the hallway near their room and Derek was trying to get by without actually knocking him down. 

“Geometry?” she guessed cheerfully. “Everyone’s studying super hard lately! I almost feel like a slacker.”

Stiles turned in time to see Kieran smile shyly.

Eli seemed to melt, leaning toward him slightly.

Derek made it around Stiles while he was distracted, hulking toward the door with his most hostile expression yet.

Stiles looked at the door, where Eli was writing her cell number down, then at Derek.

“Text me some time,” Eli said. “We can set up a study group!”

Derek got within sight of the door.

Stiles ran.

They collided with a muffled thump and “fuck!”, skidding into the kitchen. 

“Stiles, what the he-”

He covered Derek’s mouth, hissing, “Shh!” 

“Sure,” Kieran said softly. “Okay. Thanks. Bye, Deputy,” he called out.

Derek jerked his head and bit Stiles’s thumb.

“Ow!”

“Get off me!”

“Fine! Your flashlight is practically gutting me anyway.” He rolled off and wheezed. “Man, I’m getting too old for that.”

Eli stopped in the doorway. “Ew. Can’t you guys do that when I’m out?”

Stiles cracked up.

Derek dropped a dishtowel on his face. “Who was that at the door?”

“Oh, Kieran from geometry. We’re going to set up a study group later,” she said cheerfully.

Derek grinned. “Oh, good.”

“Yep. Hey, it’s movie night, and it’s my turn to pick, you better get changed, Dad.” She looked at Stiles. “Can you make your special popcorn?”

“Of course, my love. Anything.”

She snorted. “In that case, I’ll take a new car.” She snickered and went to the living room.

Stiles laid on the floor for another minute, just absorbing how much he loved the overprotective idiot next to him and their oblivious daughter. Then he got up to make the popcorn.

 

**+1**

Stiles scowled. “Well,” he said, “I was going to do that myself.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” the repairwoman Joanna said. “I have plenty of clients who get the repairs, ah, started for me.”

“Hmm.” He knew when he was being laughed at. He glared at Derek, who was at the table.

He smirked and lifted his mug at him. The guy had a coffee addiction. It was four pm.

“Was there another piece you removed?” Joanna asked.

Stiles sighed and looked in the sink. “Yep. Here, these three.” 

A pause. Then, “Three?”

Stiles winced and took them to her.

He was still being lectured about care of appliances when the doorbell rang. 

“I got it!” Eli called. Something thumped. “Oh, shit,” she yelped, tripping over her own feet.

“Eliza!” Derek scolded. “Language!” 

“Sorry, sorry.” She waved her hands apologetically and kept going for the door.

Derek started to rise from the table.

“Uh—sorry, hold that thought, I have-” Stiles bolted for the table. He clamped both hands on Derek’s shoulders and pushed him back into his seat. “ _Don’t._ Leave them alone!” 

“She rejected the last one without my help,” Derek pointed out. 

“So let her do it this time, too.” Stiles leaned over, trying to see who it was while keeping his grip on Derek’s shoulders. 

“You are forty-three years old,” Derek muttered. “Isn’t that a little too old to be acting like an annoying kid?”

“Never.” 

He snorted. “I just want to see who it is, too. There’s nothing wrong with that,” he insisted. “You’re curious, too.”

“Curious, yes. But not enough to go terrorize a teenager.”

“I was not _terrorizing_ -”

“You were, too. Those eyebrows are weapons of terror.” Stiles smoothed his thumb over one. “Good thing I’m immune.”

Derek looked back at him, one brow arched. 

“Oooh, not immune. Turned on by. You still got it, baby. Up high!” 

Derek glowered at him.

Stiles sighed. 

“Hey, can I go out for a few hours?” Eli called. She was beaming, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.

“Who was at the door?” Derek demanded.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Be nice. Who’ll you be with?”

“August. Come say hi,” she said, holding her hand out. “I think you went to school with his parents,” she said cheerily. 

“Hard not to,” Stiles said amicably. He stepped around the table and followed her toward the door. He shot Derek a stern look as he went. “Beacon Hills isn’t a huge area.”

“Right? I was telling Gabby that we should take trip before next year starts since we’ve never really been outside of the state. Well, not much.” 

“That sounds fun!” He lowered his voice. “I’ll work on Deputy Downer.” 

“I heard that!”

“Were you going to say _yes?_ ” he shot back. He smirked when he stayed quiet.

“Hey, August, this is one of my dads,” Eli said brightly. “Dad, this is August.”

Stiles smiled and held a hand out. “Where are you guys going?” 

August shook it quickly. “I was thinking a movie and ice skating, if Eli wanted to go.” He shot her a quick, hopeful look. He had hair caught somewhere between blond and red; something about that and the shape of his face looked _very_ familiar to Stiles, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“That sounds great!”

“Curfew is eleven!” Derek called.

“Eleven,” Stiles repeated. “He means well. He doesn’t normally sound like an ogre.”

August grinned suddenly. “I know. Everyone at school’s been talking about Deputy Hale’s glare. Roman Lahey and Kieran Monroe won’t even sit by Eli in the cafeteria anymore,” he snickered.

Eli sighed. “I’m just glad Clara was cool with it.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to date anyone who can’t handle a little glaring, anyway.” She snickered. “I get it from my dad.”

August smirked. “Deputy Hale didn’t glare at me.”

That smirk looked _awfully_ familiar…

“Oh, you’ll see it soon. Gotta make sure you’re tough enough to keep up with me,” Eli teased. She stood on her toes to kiss Stiles’s cheek. “See you later! Love you both!”

“Love you, too! Have fun! August, I meant to ask, what’s your last name?” Stiles asked quickly, as Eli was halfway out the door.

“Oh, it’s Martin-”

Stiles relaxed-

“-Whittemore. Bye, Mr. Stilinski!” 

The door slammed in his frozen, stunned face.

Derek took one look at him and cackled so hard he had to hold onto the wall to stay upright. “See! See?” he gasped. “That’s what you get! You should’ve let me scare him off, too!”

“I…no…” Stiles blinked, horrified. “Oh my god! She’s dating _Jackson Whittemore’s son?!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Eli calls both Stiles and Derek "Dad" because I never got the Dad/Papa thing, since there's a whole world of humor that can be derived from calling both parents dad and I refuse to miss that opportunity. "DAD!" "WHAT?" "NOT YOU!" "I'M INSULTED." "SO?!" "MY SPERM MADE YOU!" etc


End file.
